Wide Awake, You Face The Day
by ColieMacKenzie
Summary: Her face buried into the dark sheets, she soaks up the scents, his and hers, seared together, vivid and burning. Episode reaction to 4x23, "Always"


**Wide Awake, You Face the Day**

.

.

Such a cliché, she thinks inanely, and yet it's true, that when he finally sinks into her, it feels like coming home.

.

She wakes on a flash of pain.

Groaning, she shifts off her shoulder, curls in around her stomach.

Her face buried into the dark sheets, she soaks up the scents, his and hers, seared together, vivid and burning. Like their bodies, unleashed, raging with passion, a fury of desire.

Heat slices into her lower body at the images, swamps her with an unstoppable force of want, coating the pleasant soreness between her legs.

She reaches out, slowly blinks open her eyes. The room is coated in warmth, sunlight streaming through the large windows, the storm clouds of last night disintegrated into nothingness. The bed beside her empty.

Her heart clenches. "Castle?" She scoots up, sits back against the headboard and the dull pain roars back, flares in her abdomen, and she groans.

She feels it now, more than yesterday, when she was fueled solely on adrenaline and fear and desperate yearning.

Her abdomen roars from the kicks of her assailant every time she moves. Her ribs are sore, right side on fire, both shoulders throb, wrenched within their sockets when she was hanging off that ledge. The muscles of her arms stretched, ripped; even her fingertips are sore.

Aches in all her muscles, actually, a low humming thrum, not unpleasant, not from the assault. Reminding her instead of her body clinging, clenching around him, with him and she wants it again, wants more.

Wants him.

She swings her legs off the bed, slips into his maroon dress shirt, buries her nose against the collar for a moment.

On naked feet she pads toward his office, then stops when she sees him coming through the doorway on the other side. Flutters in her tummy, her knees a little wobbly seeing him just in his boxers, a mug of coffee cradled in his hand, a warm intimate smile spreading across his face.

She leans against the doorway, smiles at him across the room, beckoning him close.

"Hey," he murmurs when he's in front of her, smiling warmly as he offers her the coffee, and the love in his smile, unshakable and strong, the reverence and admiration flutter her lungs, catch her breath.

"Hey yourself," she whispers. Cradling the mug, she slowly sips the hot dark liquid, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment with the taste on her tongue, and then she looks back at him, hands him the mug.

He drinks a few swigs of the coffee, staring at her over the rim of the mug. Desire swirls in his eyes again, the dark blue of unleashed passion and she falls into their depths, her body liquid, pliable, needing.

"I like you in my shirt," he says, voice private, laced with want as he cants his hips toward her, his body bowed over hers and she grabs her hands around his hips, runs her fingers up along his chest. His breath hitches underneath her touch.

She smiles up at him through the fan of her lashes, licks her lips. "I like you without your shirt."

Then she reaches for the mug, draws it out as she drinks again, blinking at him over its rim, her hips a suggestive tease against his thighs.

"Right," he growls darkly, takes the mug from her, cradles his other hand around her waist, pulling her against him. "No shirt…" He pushes her backwards, back into the bedroom and she stumbles with him, laces her arms around his neck. "Much better…"

And then the mug is on the night stand, forgotten as he opens the couple of buttons she had closed on the shirt, revealing her to him and he looks stunned again as he cradles his palms against her waist, slowly follows her shape up her sides.

"Kate." He stops, stares at her ribcage and she follows his gaze, sees the large dark purple bruise on her right.

"Kate, did I…?" There's shock in eyes, pain in his voice.

"No, no no no," she murmurs, oh god no, her fingers in his hair, down his cheek, urging him to look at her. "You didn't… you wouldn't."

He tugs at the shirt; she drops her arms so he can pull it off and then his fingertips are against her skin, tripping, traveling; attentive.

"What happened?" He circles along her shoulder, so tender and she looks over, finds another bruise where he touches. Probably quite a few on her legs too. The lights were low last night, darkness surrounding them when they woke in the middle of the night again; hiding the evidence.

"Had to fight him off," she whispers, hisses through her teeth when his fingers dance along the line from her rib cage toward her navel, above her muscle strands where her skin is, oh, so sensitive and-

"I'm sorry, so sorry," he murmurs, drops his hands as if burned. "Don't want to hurt you."

But- No, not that, oh- "No," she leaps forward, her fingers ruffling through his hair, clenched around his neck. "Don't stop," she pulls him closer, drops her face against his neck, soaks up his scent, the comfort of his presence.

"Don't go," she whispers, incoherent, clenched, her nails digging into his skin, raw with sudden anxiety, "don't leave."

He cradles her against his chest, tender but safe, safe. His nose, his mouth in her hair, murmuring, "Shhh, I won't, baby," whips of regret in his voice. Caresses her with words, with sighs, "I won't leave again. I love you. I won't leave."

She wells with warmth, with viscous yearning that swallows her blood, lava under her skin. Presses her lips against his skin, open-mouthed, tongues along the cords of his neck, up under his ear and he shivers under her caresses.

She looks up, finds his eyes, sees everything in his gaze, the raw intensity of want, the astonishing force of his love.

"Kiss me," she whispers, finds his skin, his heartbeat, his lips. "Kiss me again."

.

She leans against his chest, within the triangle of his legs, his arms wrapped over her stomach, her chest. The water licks hot over her skin, wraps along her muscles soothingly and she rests her head against his shoulder, sinks into him.

Home.

_Finis_


End file.
